


And You Are Not Alone

by Golbez



Category: Battle B-Daman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Catfolk Culture, M/M, POV Third Person, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golbez/pseuds/Golbez
Summary: Soulmarks bring with them complications for certain catfolk men.
Relationships: Ababa/Marda B, Armada/Badmada, Armada/Original Character
Kudos: 1





	And You Are Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I can't get enough of Marda-B/Ababa...
> 
> Badmada is a character from the Fire Spirits GBA game. He is Armada's rival.
> 
> This is indeed, one of those cliche "your soulmate's name is on your wrist" AUs. I put a lot of my personal worldbuilding in this one so have fun.

The second prince of Meowtra City, capital of the Meowlantian Empire, is called Marda-B, and he has no name on his wrist.

It is not unheard of in the vast empire of Meowlantis. Many are born without a soulmark, only for a name to appear later in their lives when their future bonded is finally born.

But he checks every time a noble child is born, for the royal family has historically found its soulbonds solely within the noble families, and each time he is disappointed to find there is still no name on his wrist.

Marda-B supposes it is only lucky that he is not his brother, whose duties as heir to the throne include the immediate courtship of his soulbond once they are found. He tries to hide his envy, and spends his days tinkering with B-daman and playing his favored sport instead. Marda-B decides that if he cannot have one in a timely manner, then perhaps it's better that he turns his nose up at all talk of soulbonds and soulmarks.

It is on the eve of his twentieth birthday, as he lounges in his room and muses upon his growing impulse to venture beyond the gilded walls of Meowtra City, that his brother rushes in to see him.

"Marda." The older catfolk is twice his size but his fur is just as violet. "I found her."

Marda-B looks up from his book and realizes his brother has slipped off his golden bracelets, leaving his traditionally covered wrists exposed. The name is a catfolk name he does not recognize, written in cursive in a beautiful golden ink that pierces through Ramda-A's fur.

"...Ramda," he says, alighting from his perch on the windowsill. "Please tell me she is a noble from a distant country and that is why it took so long."

Ramda-A solemnly shakes his head. "She is a baker's girl," he says, and Marda-B's stomach sinks. "Visiting with her family from Hissandria. It is no wonder we couldn't find her before!"

Marda-B stands there and listens and watches as Ramda-A excitedly chatters and gestures about this girl he met while out in the city and how they'd swiftly gotten along and how she hadn't even realized he is the first prince of the Meowtra City...and Marda-B only feels his blood running cold.

In the end, he can't help but laugh, which catches Ramda-A off guard. "What?"

"Oh the ridiculousness of it all," Marda-B tells him, "The first prince's soulbond is a pauper, and the second prince has none to speak of. The people are going to _love_ this, but our dear mother emperor will not."

Ramda-A wisely says nothing more on the matter to him. The next day is Marda-B's twentieth birthday, and his mother grants his request to go on his Grand Tour around the empire's territories. He gathers a small entourage, wishes his brother luck in facing their mother's wrath, and makes his swift exit from the capital.

Years slip by and by. Marda-B masters his sport, mourns his mother and congratulates his brother on his coronation day, and watches as his closest friends, his dearest disciples, find their soulbonds during their travels. No name ever graces his wrist. So he continues to travel and travel and he makes the empire a better place and the people call him _Hero_ first, then _Sage_ , and Marda-B decides he likes that.

When he is much, much older, Marda-B leaves his few remaining friends behind to pray to the gods for immortality. As he kneels and clasps his hands, it crosses his mind that his living forever would perhaps be the answer to why no name has appeared yet.

But Marda-B pushes the thought away, because he is well-practiced in not caring for soulbonds, and he prays for immortality that he might continue playing his beloved sport forever.

***

Armada has known for years that the name on his wrist belongs to his greatest enemy as much as it does his would-be soulmate. His father has bitterly warned him of it: a curse that has plagued his family for generations since the days of Meowlantis.

He has long thought it doesn't sound terribly romantic. Perhaps he's just naive, but Armada dreams of being the first in his family to break the curse.

But there's little time to think of romance when B-damaster Ramadar accepts him as apprentice. Ramadar introduces him to another apprentice, his senior by a few months, and immediately warns them to never exchange their true names while training.

The old cat then bestows on them their pseudonyms for the duration of their apprenticeship. Armada is given "Ramda" and the other apprentice "Marda" after the legendary last princes of Meowlantis. The name doesn't sit well with Armada—it is a name of glory and power, neither of which he has or cares for.

Ramadar only laughs at him.

His apprenticeship lasts a few years and Ramadar and Marda both find many reasons to laugh at him, but Armada is careful and studious and learns the trade as well as he can. He invents new B-daman and starts work on his own systems, and he largely tries to keep things cordial and friendly between himself and the one called Marda.

When Ramadar decides they're ready, he gives them both a test. Armada passes easily, Marda does not. Ramadar impassively names him B-damaster, and asks him for his name.

"I am Armada," he tells the old cat.

His fellow apprentice is nearby and evidently upset, but hearing this seems to only set him off further. He rushes over to Armada, eyes flashing with anger and teeth all bared. "Show me your wrist, now!"

"Insolent—" starts Ramadar, but Armada calmly stops him.

It is taboo to make demands such as this, but Armada has had a strong suspicion for many years now. He is careful as he unwraps his wrist, holding it out for the other catfolk. Armada knows the name on it by heart. _Badmada_ in light purple ink that weaves itself in messy handwriting.

His rival, his sometimes friend—the catfolk peering at his wrist looks up into his face, eyes widening with a growing rage.

"I cannot accept that it is _you_ ," Badmada tells him.

"Surely we can talk through this," pleads Armada.

"No! Never!" shouts his soulmate and greatest enemy. Badmada storms out, and Armada sighs and wonders if this must truly be the way of things.

***

Ababa was born with an impossible name on his wrist.

His family tried to hide it from the town and from the rest of the catfolk community, but the rumours broke free and whispers follow him wherever he goes. The name hidden beneath his wraps is an ashen purple in an elegant penmanship and belongs to a long dead prince that he swiftly learns to hate for having existed in the wrong time period. It is as though the universe is playing out its greatest joke through his life.

Ababa learns to turn away from all talk of soulbonds and spends his time learning to master his magic and studying anything and everything—as long as it isn't related to the ancient world. He studies and makes a name for himself as a sorceror and he is walking home one night when the dark sky turns red and the massive glowing yellow eye appears above him.

"I am Marda-B," it growls at him. "I require your services, Ababa."

And Ababa has to stop himself from laughing as he thinks of the name on his wrist and wonders how much crueler the universe's greatest joke is going to get.

When he agrees to become Marda-B's servant, it is partially because he wants to see how this is going to work, but mostly it is because Marda-B gives him no choice.

***

Armada makes the choice not to seek out Badmada with a heavy heart. They are soulmates and enemies but Armada supposes Badmada just needs some space. A lot of space. So he doesn't ask for him when he travels and he tries not to think of him when he meets a young catfolk woman in Saitoon who steals his breath away.

She dances with Armada and treats him to lunch and she is also very, very brokenhearted. Her soulbond is long broken, and it was all a terrible accident, and Armada can't help but pity her because it is such a tragedy at her age for the name on her wrist to turn black and char the skin and fur around it.

So Armada stays for a while and she learns to B-dabattle from him while he learns to take life slow for as long as he can sit still. They share chilled milk as they stroll through the sunny streets of Saitoon and sit in the shade together when it gets warm. She licks his cheek and he gently kisses her hand and they find a curious solace in each other that neither their soulbonds can offer.

Summers pass like that, and eventually Armada sets up his workshop outside the town.

But illness takes her not long after and Armada weeps and weeps until he has no tears left. She has gone to be with her soulmate and he is left with the happy memories of their fleeting but doomed romance. Then he packs up his things and moves into his workshop and Armada vows that he will not let Badmada get away again the next time they meet.

***

The name on Ababa's wrist does not blacken and burn when the Neo Shadow Alliance falls.

He is left staring at it in confusion, wondering why the universe hates him so. It is not fair, he thinks, that his soulbond must be so complicated and it is not fair either that he has lost so many years to the Shadow Alliance.

He is walking home one night after a day of interviews and interrogations with the IBA when a handsome catfolk man appears before him. The sky does not turn red this time and very little is ominous about the suave fellow before him.

"I am Marda-B," he says, "And you are...Ababa..."

"I heard the truth of your story from Enjyu," Ababa says, deciding to cut straight to the chase. "You're really the ancient hero and prince?"

Marda-B tenses. "That is correct."

"Are you a ghost?" he asks.

"I...I'm not sure," admits Marda-B.

Ababa strides close to him, gazing up at those bright yellow eyes. Something about them pulls at him, tugging at feelings in his heart that he has long tried to lock away. When he moves, it is entirely on impulse, and he reaches up, barely grabbing onto the lapel of Marda-B's suit. It takes a bit of effort, but he manages to direct Marda-B to lean down to meet his gaze.

Ababa closes what little space is left between them, and gives Marda-B a little lick.

The prince straightens himself immediately, gazing down at him in shock.

"It seems you're not _really_ a ghost," says Ababa, and he peels off the wrap on his wrist and holds his arm out.

Marda-B gasps at the sight of his own name, and looks down to his own wrists hidden behind golden bracelets. He trembles, as if perhaps he hasn't looked at it in a long time, as he slips off the one on his right arm.

_Ababa_ is written there in the deep red color of his fur and in his scrawl of handwriting.

"I...I waited back then," says Marda-B quietly. "I waited and waited, and it never appeared, so I thought—soulbonds and love don't matter to me. I thought, I shall become immortal and have the greates B-dabattles and nothing else will matter."

"Well, your name plagued me all my life and I hated you for all of it," admits Ababa. This is not the time for spineless pleasantries. "The world laughed at me for having a dead prince on my wrist, so I too pushed it all away. And then you came and took my years away."

"I would not fault you if still hate me." Marda-B bows his head. "No apologies I muster can erase the things I did to you."

"Then let's start over," says Ababa, because hate is not what he feels. It isn't love either, he's quite sure, but something else. A pleasant cacophony of _what if_ and _maybe_ that etches itself into him, because after all the years spent under Marda-B's control, he's sure he knows Marda-B better than anyone else and Marda-B must know him just as well.

Marda-B's surprise is plain on his face as he looks up to Ababa's eyes. He is all that remains of an ancient age and Ababa wonders if he would prefer to rest and leave the world behind, but then Marda-B smiles. He smiles so kindly, and he leans down and takes Ababa's hand and gently kisses it.

"Let us start over indeed," he says, bowing like a true gentleman. "I am Marda-B, and I have been waiting for you."

Something flutters in Ababa's chest, as if those are words he has desired to hear all his years.

"I am Ababa," he replies, "And I've been searching for you."

***

The incident on Sealed Island is a big mess and Armada offers his wisdom at the end of it and he doesn't say anything to Badmada about what happened between them before and Badmada does not seem inclined to bring it up either.

It's when they're waiting for their turn to take the ferry that Badmada approaches him.

"Armada," he says. "I didn't want to say it in front of all the kids but..."

"Badmada," he interrupts. "When I told you 'whenever you're ready' earlier, I meant it."

"...oh." Badmada gives him a sheepish look and shakes his head. "This is all a mess I got us into, eh?"

"There's not much to do with messes but to just try and clean them up." Armada offers, though he knows Badmada wants more than platitudes from him right now. But he can't bring himself to step forward and give comfort. He is B-damaster first, and his pupils are nearby. He does not wish to display to them all the undignified feelings that Badmada inspires in him.

Badmada gazes at him thoughtfully, then nods. "All right," he says, "We'll try again next time."

"I'll be waiting," replies Armada.

It's not the start of anything romantic, and it's not the start of anything nice. Armada knows it may take Badmada a long time before he's ready to even try anything together.

But Armada isn't going to worry about him anymore, and the name on his wrist brings him peace now.


End file.
